


And I'm Hungry Like The Wolf

by Memories_of_the_Shadows



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Asexuality Spectrum, Attempt at Humor, Bad Flirting, Fereldan Culture and Customs, Gen, Non-Consensual Touching, Orlesian (Dragon Age) Balls, POV Cullen Rutherford, The Randy Dowager Quarterly, Werewolf Kink, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23487262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memories_of_the_Shadows/pseuds/Memories_of_the_Shadows
Summary: This is what you get when an entire country's main idea of another's culture comes from a legend about a werewolf and various indecent riffs on said legend.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford & Sera
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	And I'm Hungry Like The Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Hungry Like The Wolf" by Duran Duran.
> 
> I do not consent to my work being hosted on any unofficial apps, especially any with ad revenue and subscription services, or any website other than ao3 unless I personally cross-posted a work.

“Is it true,” asks one of the women that is crowded as close to Cullen’s side as she can get with the size of her skirts; Cullen thanks Andraste for the elaborate fashions. “Is it really the full moon that causes it?”

Half the more pampered looking Orlesian nobles look uneasily out the window at the nearly full moon, but they still crowd around him. Cullen would really just like to be left alone, and he pulls his arm free from one of the braver chevaliers, honestly even the healer doesn’t feel his muscles that thoroughly. Not even the masseuse! “I don’t think so…?” he answers, when it’s clear they’re actually waiting for an answer.

A wave of relaxation goes through the crowd, and an older Lady pushes closer than he’d have thought possible with the amount of fabric contained in her dress. “I’ve heard that it just makes the men… wild,” she purrs, right into his ear, and Cullen feels nauseous. He’s pretty sure that’s an innuendo, and he wants nothing to do with that from any of them.

“Madam, please!” Cullen is going to ignore the squawk that comes out instead of the commanding bellow he’s perfected over the past ten years.

Maker, this is making him feel like he’s back on his first solo guard duty for the library. They crowd around him close enough that he can smell their cloying perfumes, like they’re a pack of mabari and he’s got treats in his pockets, or--a more recently present memory for Cullen--a group of mages suddenly and inexplicably banned from the library.

He sneezes, and all it does is make a thin and young-looking lord’s eyes brighten dangerously, and the lord leans forward saying, “is the scent of my heated… blood,” the man winks, or, at least, Cullen thinks he does, these masks are too confusing, “too much for you, dear Ser Cullen?”

Another girl--this one looks barely old enough to stay up the entire night and Cullen just wants to _run_ \--gasps dramatically, her hands fluttering over her obscenely low neckline. “Can you hear my heartbeat, Serah? I swear to you, it is yours and yours alone!” Her voice sounds artificial and high, and Cullen desperately tries to catch Josephine’s eye.

Josephine frowns, shakes her head a bit at him, and turns back to the merchant with a smile.

“I wonder, are you _naturally_ blond? All of it? All the… time?” someone whispers lasciviously in his ear.

Cullen hears Leliana’s sadistic giggle come from somewhere nearby and despairs of his life.

Someone is trying to steal his shoes--Cullen isn’t even sure the crowd is made up of individuals anymore, and everyone seems to have an opinion on his chest hair, Maker only knows what happened to most of his buttons--when he hears it.

Only Sera would unleash a stink bomb in the middle of Halamshiral’s Winter Ball and Cullen _knows_ he’ll never hear the end of it from Josephine, but right this moment he’s so happy that it disperses the crowd quicker than anything else he’s ever seen that he’ll take _months_ of Josephine’s complaints.

Sera’s maniacal laughter rings in Cullen’s ears--oh, and Josephine can certainly scream, but she deserves it for leaving him to deal with the… the… _vultures_ by himself--as she drags him through the confusion.

They pass Bull--who blinks deliberately, grins, shoves a pastry in his mouth, and proceeds to make himself the biggest obstacle he can be--and it’s only when the crowd around them thins out into nothingness that Cullen can catch his breath.

“Thank you,” he says, between gasps, and he and Sera may have their differences but she definitely has her uses, as obscure to Cullen as they often are.

She bounces around him on the balls of her feet, giggling. “Never thought I’d see General Uptight looking scared of a few prisses; you dinnit even blink facing Corypheshits down at Haven.”

Cullen just shifts, uncomfortable again at the memory of the pawing mass, all of them probably interested more in his body than anything else. Sera claps him on the back--at least he never has to worry about her, mutual disinterest in each other’s parts assures that--and grins. “Anyways, us werewolves have to stick together!” she says, gleeful.

Werewolves? “What?”

“Dinnit those noble shites tell you? _Apparently_ ,” her eyes roll so hard Cullen could swear he could see nothing but white, “Fereldens are werewolves. There’s books.” She grins, and her teeth gleam. She certainly has a lot of them. “Naughty ones.”

“Books?” Oh, Maker. Cullen just wants this night to _end_.

**Author's Note:**

> Because “The Randy Dowager” definitely has something to say about the Hero Dane. Also inspired by the codex “[How To Act Ferelden](https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Codex_entry:_How_to_Act_Fereldan)” in DAI, which, hilariously, is acquired after talking to Cullen about his background.


End file.
